Surprise
by suburbs
Summary: Mitchie called me to let me know she thought I had a chance with him. Chapter one from Caitlyn's point of view. Chapter two from Jason's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock._

Mitchie called me to let me know she thought I had a chance with him. Apparently before Camp Rock he was drawn to exotic brunettes, but recently they had noticed he only seemed to want long caramel colored hair and chocolate eyes. While it didn't seem like much to me, I was willing to grasp at straws, so I came. I dropped in to visit my best friend Mitchie on tour, although really I just wanted to see him.

But I never expected the scene before me. There he was on the couch in his dressing room with a girl straddling his waist. I could see his hands tangled in her hair and hear her moan out his name as he trailed kisses down her neck. It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me. It was one thing to hear that there were other girls, but to watch it play out in front of me was more than I could handle. I must have gasped because at that moment he looked up and locked eyes with me.

"Caitlyn," he whispered shock evident on his face. I felt my eyes well up with tears, and I turned and ran before he could watch me cry over him.

I heard him calling my name and wondered what he had done with the girl on his lap, but I didn't slow down to find out. I wasn't even sure where I was going – just away from whatever was happening in that room. How could I have thought he would ever want me? What was I thinking just showing up unannounced like that?

I made it to the tour bus, only to find it empty and locked. Leaning my head against the door, I closed my eyes tightly and felt the pain wash over my body. Even the cold night air couldn't numb the hurt. I could still see him holding her. Sobs wracked my body.

"Caitlyn, what's wrong?" I tensed at the sound of his voice. He pulled me away from the bus and held me tightly. It felt so good to be in his arms, but at the same time it made it worse. I shrugged out of his embrace and stepped back, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I struggled to get myself under control.

"Tell me what's wrong, please," he pleaded.

"It's nothing," I said, aware even as I said it how pathetic a lie it was. "I just hoped…" I wasn't sure I could put into words what I had wanted. I didn't want to see his face when he heard about my stupid crush. I continued on, aware that I wasn't making any sense, "Seeing you with her." I bit my lip willing myself not to cry.

I watched his face and saw the moment he realized what I meant; I saw a fleeting look of joy followed by shame. "Caitlyn," he asked quietly, "would you have gone out with me if I had asked?"

I nodded, and he winced at my response. He reached out towards me and then let his hand fall back to his side. "That girl, Caity, she didn't mean anything. She was just a replacement for the girl I wanted and thought I couldn't have."

I wanted to believe he was talking about me, but I was too afraid to hope. I needed him to say that he wanted me.

"I'm so sorry you saw that, but Caity, please give me a chance. You're the only one I want."

I let out a shuddering breath before launching myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. I could feel one hand against the back of my head and the other gripping my lower back, the heat from his touch seeping through my shirt. And when he kissed me it wasn't the gentle, romantic kiss I had always imagined. He was passionate and sensual and overwhelming. He was better than any fantasy I had ever had. I pulled away gasping for breath. "No other girls?" I asked him.

Jason smiled down at me and ran his hand down my cheek, making me shiver. "No one but you."

_A/N: So this was my first attempt at writing in first person, and it is more detached than it should be. Also, I told LittleRedOne I would try a different Jason. My Jason is always a little too perfect and romantic and innocent. He probably was here too, but it was my attempt to make him a little more adult. _


	2. Surprised Again

_Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock._

_A/N: This is basically the same events as chapter one told from Jason's point of view._

_Dedication: This is for MissNata13 because she requested some sort of continuation of this story. She wrote a brilliant story called Pink Lady (go read it) from Caitlyn's point of view, and is currently rewriting the story from Nate's point of view in Confessions of Danny Zuko (go read it). I thought it would be fun to get a little taste of what she is going through, and my respect for her increased in the process. Hope you like it._

"Uhm, Jason?" Nate said hesitantly. "Can we talk to you for a second?"

I looked up to see Shane and Nate hovering in the doorway of my dressing room.

"Sure," I said waving them in. "What's up guys?"

"We're worried about you." Nate began. "We just wanted to talk to you about the girls."

I was totally confused. What girls? The only girl on the tour with us was Mitchie, and I couldn't think of any reason they would need to talk to me about her. Plus, she was only one girl last time I checked.

"Yeah, man," Shane agreed. "What's with you and all the hook-ups? It's like all of a sudden you've become the Connect Three man-whore."

"Hey!" I protested. "I am not a man-whore. I'm not sleeping with them." I paused for a moment trying to think of a way to explain it to them. "There's just something I want to forget, and they help."

"Something or someone?" Nate asked looking over at Shane.

Shane raised an eyebrow. "Jason, whatever it is you're doing, it isn't forgetting."

"What? Yes it is." I argued. Nate shook his head and walked away muttering to himself.

Shane gave me a weird look before saying, "You're an idiot, Jase."

What the hell? I stood there in shock as I watched Shane follow Nate out of my dressing room. After a moment, I collapsed back on the couch. Who did they think they were, anyways? Calling me a man-whore? They weren't exactly saints; before Mitchie, Shane had his fair share of girls. And it wasn't like I did it every night – only when someone reminded me of…

Oh.

Oh!

That's what Shane meant.

Crap. I am an idiot.

I hate when he's right. Thank goodness it doesn't happen very often.

And maybe it isn't actually helping me forget, but it does make it hurt a little bit less. For a little while anyway. And at this point, I'll take whatever relief I can get. I mean, I never liked anyone as much I as like her, and there was no way she would ever be interested in me. She was smart and pretty and funny, and I was just Jason. Let's face it, I wasn't that bright, and I got nervous and tongue-tied around her. Plus, I was older than she was, so she probably saw me as a goofy older brother. I was pretty sure that most of the girls I dated just wanted to be with a rockstar, and she wouldn't care about that.

And it wasn't like I was hurting anyone; I always made sure that the girls had a nice time.

Somehow realizing exactly what I was doing made it a little less enjoyable. Here I was sitting on the couch in my dressing room with a very lovely, willing girl on my lap, and I was having trouble focusing. She was pretty and seemed nice, but I was acutely aware that she wasn't the one I wanted there. But it would be sort of rude to stop now, so I broke away from her mouth and started to trail kisses down her neck. Which was apparently a good idea because she gave this throaty moan when she said my name. And just when I was starting to think that maybe this could be fun after all, I heard something and looked up.

Oh, God. Please tell me this is a nightmare. Don't let this be real.

"Caitlyn," I whispered. It felt like time stood still. She looked so shocked. I could see her eyes well up with tears, and she turned and ran out of the room. This had to be real because I never imagined Caitlyn seeing me like this – never wanted her to know about this part of my life. Never wanted to see her look that sad and disappointed.

"Excuse me," I said as politely as I could under the circumstances, quickly picking the girl up off my lap and setting her down on the sofa. I ran out of my dressing room, catching a glimpse of Caitlyn heading to an exit.

"Caitlyn! Wait!" I called after her. But she didn't stop. My heart raced as I saw her head out into the darkness. I ran as fast as I could, finally catching up with her at our bus.

I stood there for a moment like the idiot I am, watching her lean against the bus sobbing. I felt like my heart was breaking. What had happened to make her cry like that?

"Caitlyn, what's wrong?" I couldn't imagine what could have broken her. She's usually so strong. I reached out and pulled her to me, trying to push away the thought of how amazing it felt to hold her. For a glorious minute she clung to me, but then she stepped away. I watched her struggling to stop crying, feeling totally helpless.

"Tell me what's wrong, please," I begged. I needed to know what was going on and how to help her.

"It's nothing," she whispered.

Even I knew that wasn't true. Caitlyn Gellar didn't cry over nothing.

But then she continued, "I just hoped…seeing you with her."

Wait? She was crying because of that girl? Why would she care if I was kissing someone…unless…she liked me.

For a brief second, I felt totally happy because there was a chance the girl of my dreams might actually care about me. But it only lasted for a second. Then the guilt and self-loathing hit. I was the one who made her cry. Because I was an idiot and a coward. If I had just asked her, maybe none of this would have happened.

"Caitlyn, would you have gone out with me if I had asked?" I held my breath waiting for her response. I almost hoped it would be no because then I could somehow justify my actions. But she nodded.

I felt sick. All this time I could have been with Caitlyn. And what if she didn't want me now that she knew who I really was; what I had been doing? I reached out to touch her, to hold her. But what if she rejected me? She saw me holding that girl – would she be repulsed by me? My hand fell back down.

I needed to find some way to explain myself – to let her know how much I like her. How much I wish I could go back and undo everything that had happened tonight. Everything that had happened since camp.

"That girl, Caity, she didn't mean anything. She was just a replacement for the girl I wanted and thought I couldn't have."

She looked confused. Probably because I'm a fucking idiot. She is standing right in front of me, and I still can't seem to tell her straight out that I want her. What am I afraid of? It couldn't get any worse than this.

"I'm so sorry you saw that, but Caity, please give me a chance. You're the only one I want." I could feel my eyes start to tear up as I waited for her to respond.

And before I knew what was happening, she was kissing me. She tasted salty and sweet at the same time, and I clung to her. My senses were on overload – she was soft and warm and perfect. I kissed her desperately, hoping that she could sense what I was feeling but couldn't seem to put into words. Eventually, she pulled away and looked up at me with her eyes bright, but still unsure.

"No other girls?" she asked hesitantly.

I had never felt that happy before, and I honestly couldn't imagine ever looking at another girl.

"No one but you," I promised.


End file.
